


until you find the truth

by unprecedence



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Coming of Age, M/M, Religious Themes, Unbeta-ed, ill edit this when I have time, mark lee centric, markhyuck, mentioned implied homophobia, this is kind of self indulgent i'm sorry, unedited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 21:28:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19028284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unprecedence/pseuds/unprecedence
Summary: Mark Lee, the poster Christian boy, bears a burden he shouldn't even be carrying in the first place. Then comes another boy just having moved into their neighborhood. From then on, ideologies that he grew up with gets dismantled for good.





	until you find the truth

**Author's Note:**

> yaay another vent fic

_ I mean, if it was you that made my body  _

_ you probably shouldn’t have made me atheist _

  
  


Mark had always been the best, obedient boy his parents could ever have. He is the pride of his father, a man who followed the call of God and became a pastor to serve his Holy Name. His mother looks at him the same—her proudest work, someone she can openly brag about in their Christian community. _ Mark doesn’t do nasty boy stuff, oh no _ . Instead of hiding to his room in the entirety of the day doing God knows what, Mark joins his family in their living room for the three in the afternoon prayer. 

  
  


The thing is, Mark can do a plethora of things. He can pray the whole rosary, he knows Hail Mary by heart, and he always, always, always takes the Ten Commandments seriously. Speakers during community gatherings absolutely adore him and even use him as an example of the model Christian. Few snickers from kids his age could be heard, but Mark just shrugs internally. Who was he to judge people when Jesus walked with the lepers, the gamblers, the whores?

  
  


Aunties and uncles love him too. He is the boy their children would often find themselves compared to.  _ Why can’t you be respectful like Mark? Why can’t you go to church every Sunday wholeheartedly? Why can’t you stop being a little devil and be like Mark? _ Inhale. Exhale. Mark was a respectful boy, always smiling, never angry.

  
  


“They don’t really know you,” the boy next to him whispers. 

 

Mark takes in the sight of the pews and how the sunlight passes through the stained glass windows so beautifully before he speaks in his usual calm voice. “I know.”

 

“So, you’re really going to be a pastor?” the boy looks at him expectantly, halting the swinging of his feet back and forth.

 

“No,” Mark says without missing a beat. 

 

The boy next to him just nods and drops the conversation. He just resumes waiting for their parents to fetch them inside the church as they hold their potluck in the grounds. The two boys just opted to stay inside, saying they want to think about the glory of Jesus and thank Him for keeping their families safe. Their mothers just agreed with a smile. 

 

Then, like glass shattering, Mark tell himself, “lies”.

 

The thing is, despite being the poster Christian boy who is his parents’ pride, Mark doesn’t believe a single aspect of…  _ this _ . He couldn’t grasp the concept of a “ _ loving god _ ” that also punishes his creations for all eternity if they don’t believe Him. He doesn’t get the importance of having a carefully constructed series of events during a prayer. Is everything really necessary to appease a higher being who,  _ he prays his mother doesn’t catch on _ , may not even exist?

  
  


Contrary to what his mother tells everyone, his favourite subject isn’t even Theology. In fact, it is the complete opposite. God forbid his mom discovers that he prefers listening to scientific documentaries than listening to their pastor deliver his fifth homophobic homily. 

  
  


Mark couldn’t exactly pinpoint the moment he discovered he wasn’t really fine with the way he was living. It all started from being an internal disease, uprooting everything he had ever thought was the gospel truth. But then, he doesn’t find  _ their  _ truth appealing. The amount of loopholes, arguments, hypocrisy was too much for him. Shattering the image of their perfect community. Mark wanted to escape from it all. But to no avail. 

  
  


So, he started being a little like his parents. God will punish those who engage in homosexual relationships, women who don’t dress modestly are spawns of devil, the list just goes on _ and on and on _ . But Mark was a smart boy. That internalized hatred didn’t last long. 

  
  


When everyone was already asleep, he brings out his phone and connects his phone to the neighbor’s wifi. He couldn’t risk being tracked by his parents. And from then on, he watched boys kiss boys, girls kiss girls, boys kiss girls and boys, and from that he deduced, love must be such a beautiful thing. Dare he say, more beautiful, purer than how everyone sings their praises. From then, his mind had already rebelled. 

  
  


With the stroke of luck, a new family moved into their neighborhood. They had a boy in tow, about the same age as Mark. On a particular Sunday, he discovered they would also be a part of this  _ loving  _ community. Mark thought it would be another chance for his loving parents to tell them about him being a good son. 

  
  


Little did he know, the boy in tow was just like him. He goes to their house to deliver cookies as a friendly neighborhood gift. To his surprise, the boy answered the door. 

  
  


“Hello?” Mark says, quite unsure. 

 

“Uhm… who are you?” the boy answers back with a question. 

 

“We live across from you and my parents wanted me to give these,” he gestures to the freshly made cookies, “as a little gift for you and your family.” Mark flashed his practiced smile. “I’m Mark by the way. Mark from the Lee family.”

 

By the mention of “Lee” the boy immediately perks up. “I’m Donghyuck,” he puts his hand out for a handshake, “my family is also Lee.”

 

Mark takes his hand and grips it firmly. He doesn’t miss the way a small blush creeps into Donghyuck’s ears and how Mark suddenly feels so electrified and alive. He walked back to their home that day unable to hide his smile. 

 

“What’s up with my little man today?” His mother says, whipping some cake batter for the weekly potluck tomorrow. 

 

“Nothing much. The new kid seems nice,” He offers his mother a small smile. 

 

“Hmm okay young man. You can rest up in your room now. Just go down if you need something okay?” Mark’s mom was lining up various baking pans and parchment papers.

 

“Okay, mom!” He said a little bit too enthusiastically. 

 

The moment Mark closes the door to his room and locks it, he takes a deep exhale.  _ What was that?  _ He thinks.  How can a handshake feel so good, so electrifying and why does he feel so accomplished seeing a boy blush in front of him? Suddenly he feels guilt seeping into his body. 

  
  


He decides to shake the thoughts out of his head and reaches for his phone on top of his bedside drawer. He mutters a silent apology to Jesus, but it’s really hard to break this routine. The moment he closes the door shut, he is a sinner from three thirty pm onwards. He tells his mom he’s going to catch up on schoolworks, do some light reading. But in reality, he was whispering words of repentance as he lowers his pants and touches himself in ecstasy. This is utterly disgusting in his mind, but the relief he gets from being in a place that is not suffocating for the soul keeps him sane, like he has control of what he is doing. 

  
  


From there he becomes blasphemous, whispering things that would end his pristine life if he ever got caught. He reaches for the wet wipes he has stashed under his blanket. He was just about to finish cleaning himself when he hears his mom from the kitchen. 

  
  


“Dinner’s ready, Mark!” His mom says.

 

“Okay, Mom!” He shouts back as he douses his hand in alcohol. 

  
  


This time, he has already learned to stop the guilt from rushing in. What he did was normal, right? Pleasure is a human need, right? Mark directs the question to a god somewhere. When he figured they wouldn’t answer, he joins his family for their dinner. And so he clasps his parents’ hands with his own as he leads them through a prayer. Mark is conflicted. He wants to douse his hands in holy water.

  
  
  


He meets Donghyuck the next day, his bright smile all set for the crowd. The gathering was going smoothly and everyone was engaged in chit chat about their prayers and good deeds when Donghyuck leans into Mark’s ear. 

  
  


“What a bunch of fakes,” Donghyuck whispers, telltale lilt colouring his voice.

 

Mark feels electrified because finally there was someone who saw through these people and their fake kindness and how they judge other people in closed doors and how they like policing people who don’t think like them and, oh god, he feels a little lightheaded. 

  
  


Suddenly, Mark stood up and called for his mom and dad’s attention. “Mom! Dad! Donghyuck and I are just going for a walk!”

  
  


His dad just offers a grunt of approval while his mother says, “be safe, honey!”

  
  


Donghyuck does the same without question and Mark notices how the other boy’s eyes twinkle when asking permission from his parents and then his mother tells him to be safe while his father just ruffles his hair. 

  
  


They both set forward to find a secluded place in their church. Suddenly, Mark decides to get bold with his words. 

 

“What were you talking about back there?” He whispered, afraid the walls could talk and they would shatter his christian boy facade. 

 

“Oh you know. The fakeness of all of this,” the boy gestures to everything around them before continuing. “People preach so much about being a good person but they talk about people behind their backs and they think they’re higher than other people and…”

 

Mark was mesmerized with how Donghyuck just boldly says his piece without shame or guilt. From then on, they decided to do this every Sunday potluck. They steal glances, talk shit when no one’s looking. 

  
  


Months later, they’re in their usual Sunday place, Donghyuck dives in for a kiss and Mark couldn’t help but think Donghyuck’s kisses are nice.

 

And so, he asks permission from his mother one time if he could go to the Lees just across their house on Saturdays. Mark’s parents just agree, thankful he was coming out of his shell as he didn’t really talked to other church kids. 

  
  


From then on, Mark realizes that he doesn’t have to live everyday until his death suffocated by all of this. For the first time in his life, he realized that he felt caged.  _ Don’t do this. Don’t do that. Do this so you’ll go to heaven. _ Is it really that hard to be just naturally kind? Without needing any outside threats? Without seeking moral dessert?

  
  


“Is something bothering you?” Donghyuck whispers.

 

“Oh you know, the usual,” Mark confesses.

  
  
  


“They don’t really know you,” Donghyuck whispers, face buried in Mark’s chest as he times his breaths together. He gently laces his arms in Mark’s body. 

 

“I know,” Mark says, closing his eyes and rubbing smooth circles on Donghyuck’s back. “I know.” 

  
  


Every Saturday, the two boys dream of solace, of finding a place where they don’t       have to hide anything. Finally Mark has stopped feeling so empty, so hollow. For years he had tried to force himself into a mold given to him and oh, did he try to fit into that small mold.

  
  


The gospels say he is lost, a scoundrel lacking of love, guidance, and faith. But how can they explain the phenomenon right at this moment—in Donghyuck’s arms, he feels nothing short of being found and so at home, so perfect. In Donghyuck’s embrace he is home, he is found. 

**Author's Note:**

> scream with me on twt @ markderys


End file.
